February 2011
2 posts
Hi guys! Know we haven’t posted in awhile, but what can ya do. If you would like to follow our personal blogs, you can find them here for Madds (she just turned 17, go wish her a happy one) or here for Margot.
Hope everyone is well and had a nice Valentines Day! x
January 2011
1 post
Satisfy my youth; my love for the careless; my reckless abondonment of the known.
December 2010
1 post
Yesterday they told me about a man who had shot himself in the chest so it would be easier for the next of kin to identify the man they loved.
November 2010
25 posts
Never fuck a girl with a bleeding heart you’ll make such a mess of these clean sheets
Hey everyone, thanks so much for supporting us and what we do. If you would like to recommend us (it would be much appreciated!) you can do so by clicking here. Hope everyone is well x
she woke up in brazil given the chance to replace the weight on her tired shoulders but the beginning proved too hard so she reacted in the only way she knew how lit her cigarette from the candle on the only table in the restaurant then ripped it to pieces and threw it to the birds
There’s scratches on the inside of your arms and cuts that don’t heal. You got used to that after awhile. Things not healing. It’s like you’ve always said, anything that lives is wounded in some way. Except the difference here, you think, is that you didn’t drag yourself home with a trap on your leg.
dirt under my nails makes me want to peel back my skin and look inside. i kiss you and i ache to pull my teeth and hold them in my palm, squeeze them so hard crescents cut my skin. who am i kidding, i knew this all along.
everyone has a body, and it’s all i see.
it’s really something that you can bring yourself to look at me despite what you must have hoped all that time you spent invested in the self you didn’t know
I don’t know if I can thank you for that or atribute it to unrealized despair
there are bruises on my breasts, on my thighs, my throat. there are bruises on my eyelids, on my lungs, and on my heart. there are bruises wherever you touched me, your blackened fingers like ash on stone.
upstairs we were greeted like long gone war survivors as unexplained footsteps surrounded our minds we dropped the bench and ran to the familiar comfort of his staircase too blazed to speak, I watched the still sights of papanui road flash by as the police officer lectured me and asked too many questions I’m enveloped by the fear of descending into an existence reminiscent of those I’ve seen...
when you rang me at four in the morning and told me you still loved me. when you told me i was everything you loathed in the world without looking at me. when you smiled at me across the room. when you let me smoke in your bed. when i dyed you hair and it came out wrong. when i tripped you up running drunk. when we cried like kittens on his bed. when i touched your scars. when i let you read my...
come round in the morning and i’ll make you coffee. give me a space to lay and i’ll sleep, on my own or entwined. offer me an inch and i’ll take a mile, because you need all you can get when you’ve been starved for so long. i’m sorry. i should’ve kept my mouth shut, but sometimes it’s too hard to not drive a wedge between the stars and the moon. tell me, how long have we been here, my hand...